


The One Where Clarke Is Too Late

by perryplatypus26



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, Inspired by Friends (TV), Minor Costia/Lexa (The 100)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2019-08-24
Packaged: 2020-09-25 19:57:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20377249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perryplatypus26/pseuds/perryplatypus26
Summary: Lexa and Clarke have been best friends for years. While Lexa is out of the country one Christmas, Raven accidentally tells Clarke about the feelings Lexa has had for her for years. Clarke then has to decide how she feels before Lexa comes back home. When she finally gets her head and heart together, is Clarke too late?Based off how Ross and Rachel started their relationship in the show Friends.





	The One Where Clarke Is Too Late

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! So, I'm fairly new to The 100 fandom, but I'm a huge fan of Clarke and Lexa's relationship. I watched the first three seasons just last year on Netflix, and I haven't gone back to watch more because they were so great together and it sucks that they aren't able to be together.
> 
> Anyway, I've had a few ideas for fanfics for this amazing couple, but this is the first one I've taken the time to sit down and write. I hope you enjoy this Ross-and-Rachel take on Clarke and Lexa. If you aren't a fan of Friends, I totally understand. (There are a lot of problematic things about the show and its characters.) So, I left that out and just used the show to inspire a way for these women to finally admit their feelings and get together (maybe).

Clarke smiled at the small gift in her hand. Leave it to Lexa Woods to make sure she got her friends Christmas gifts even though she was nearly 8,000 miles away in South Africa, studying ancient cultures and their languages for her doctorate thesis. She was the softest, sweetest nerd that Clarke had ever known.

  
“It won’t bite you, Clarke. Just fucking open it.”

  
Lifting her eyes to deadpan at Raven, Clarke started to tear the wrapping gently at the corners. She heard the rest of their friends giggling at her slow pace, while Raven sighed and mumbled something about turning 100 before the night was over.

  
“You just want it to be your turn again,” Clarke bargained, running her finger slowly under a piece of tape, making sure it wouldn’t rip the paper. “Wasn’t it you who suggested we take turns by age? You had your turn after most of us, but now you have to wait for us little kids even though you can’t wait to go again. Am I right?” Clarke smirked at the middle finger Raven sent in her direction.

  
“She’s right, Rae,” Octavia chimed in. “It was your idea.”

“You know what? I got this for you too and didn’t have time to wrap it,” Raven said, using her other hand to flip off Octavia.

“Jesus fucking Christ, you are all children,” Anya groaned, returning to the living room. Her glass was now at least three-fingers full of some name-brand whiskey.

“That makes you a pedophile, considering you like to bone this child all night every night,” Raven grinned. Everyone simultaneously groaned, even though they should have been used to Raven’s lack of a filter by now, and they threw pieces of leftover popcorn at Anya and Raven as they started kissing.

Through all the commotion, Clarke finished unwrapping what appeared to be a men’s jewelry box as her gift. She lifted the lid with furrowed brows before finally gasping at the watch nestled into a dark blue velvet. With delicate fingers, she pulled the watch out to make sure it really was her father’s watch. Everyone had finally gone quiet in the background.

“Isn’t that your dad’s?” Bellamy asked. All her friends knew about the watch she had inherited from her father after his passing five years ago. She wore it constantly, even when it got in her way as a graphic designer and artist, but a little extra weight on her hand was a small price to pay.

“Yeah,” Clarke sighed. Her view of the watch turned watery very quickly. About six months before Christmas, she had taken the watch off while working on a messy painting out on her apartment’s deck. It had fallen off the handrail, where Clarke should not have set it down in the first place, at some point and broke into many pieces upon reaching the ground four floors below. Thankfully, Clarke was able to retrieve most of the pieces without someone stepping on them or throwing them away, but she was devastated about destroying one of the only reminders she had left of her father.

“She sent it in to get fixed,” Lincoln added. Clarke glanced up at him in question. “I helped her find the right place and pick out what’s written on the inside.”

“What?” Clarke whispered. She looked at the back of the watch and saw an engraving.

May we meet again.

It was something her dad always used to say before traveling for work, and Clarke constantly found it weird. Why not just say, “See you later,” if you really didn’t want to say goodbye? His job wasn’t dangerous anyway. He had worked at NASA as a designer and architect. When they heard about the freak accident at his work, though, Clarke and her mom were able to speak with him very briefly on the phone before he died. “May we meet again,” had been the second to last thing Clarke had heard her father say, right before, “I love you, Clarke.”

“Fuck,” Clarke said, wiping at the tears on her cheeks. Octavia moved over to Clarke on the love seat to rub her back.

“Wow,” Octavia said, “this must have cost her a fortune.”

“I know, it was crazy,” Lincoln said. “I couldn’t talk her out of it, though. You know Lexa.”

“Yeah, it’s not that crazy, honestly,” Raven added absentmindedly while already poking around the wrapping on the next gift in her lap. “I mean, remember when Lexa was in love with Luna and bought her that ridiculously expensive boat figurine.” She scoffed, expecting everyone to laugh with her.

“Raven!” Anya nudged Raven with an elbow.

“No, I’m serious,” Raven started again, oblivious to the tension in the room. “You have to remember. We all tried to talk her out of it because we all knew what a bitch that girl was. And it turned out to be true.”

“Raven!” Anya snapped again with an even harder elbow to Raven’s ribs.

“What?”

“What did you just say?” Clarke finally spoke up. The watch suddenly felt a thousand pounds in her hands.

“What?” Raven’s eyes had bugged out at this point. “About-about how Luna was a bitch?”

“No, about Lexa and-and with the figurine.”

Raven started breathing heavily. “No-I…I didn’t say anything.”

Anya let out a deep sigh, rubbing her nose. “Jesus fucking Christ, Raven.”

“Shit.” Raven threw her hands in her hair.

“What are you trying to say, Raven?” Clarke asked. Her fingertips had turned white around the watch.

“Come on, Clarke,” Raven started, appearing to resign herself to the hole she had begun digging. “You’ve gotta realize by now that Lexa is in love with you.”

“Shut up, Raven!” Octavia added. She stood up next to Clarke, looking ready to throw down with one of her best friends.

“What? She had to find out at some point.”

“Oh my god,” Clarke whispered to herself while arguing broke out.

“But it’s not our place to say anything. Fuck, Raven!” Octavia threw her hands into the air.

“It had to come out, though,” Raven reasoned. “Clarke needs to know the truth. We all know!”

“That’s not the point,” Octavia continued. “She deserves to know the truth from Lexa.”

“Guys,” Clarke tried with a suddenly dry throat. Her mind was buzzing, trying to fully grasp this information. The mild ringing in her ears almost drowned out her two best friends’ arguing, but she needed them to be quiet, so she could breathe properly.

“But she was never going to say anything. Lexa’s been sitting on this for fucking years.”

“I don’t care. You have no right to—”

“Guys!” Clarke yelled. “It doesn’t matter. I know now. That’s- that’s all that matters.”

Clarke continued to stare at the watch in her hands while nobody spoke. The sudden revelation about one of her best friends shouldn’t have surprised her. Lexa treated Clarke differently from everyone else. They had met as freshmen in a small coffee shop, both of them new to New York City. Clarke had grown up in Washington, D.C., but she had decided to attend an out-of-state college to earn her degree in graphic design. Lexa, having grown up in the foster system, had moved across the country from California to escape all the memories she had there. She had received a full-ride scholarship to start earning her degree in linguistics. They hadn’t attended the same college, but that didn’t stop them from continuing to meet at that little coffee shop and become friends. Soon, they introduced their friends to each other, and thus, their little gang had been born. Even though everyone was quite close in the group of seven—especially once Anya and Raven, then Octavia and Lincoln, had become couples—it definitely went unsaid but not unknown that Clarke and Lexa had the closest friendship of all.

“Clarke,” Lincoln finally broke the silence. “Are you okay?”

“I…,” Clarke started before shaking her head. “I don’t know.”

“Well, what’re you going to do? I mean, how do you feel?” Octavia asked.

“I don’t know. I mean, it’s Lexa. She’s-she’s incredible and funny, and she has such a big heart, and she’s-she’s…”

“She’s what?” Raven asked.

Clarke looked back down at the watch. She couldn’t even fathom how much this had cost Lexa, but it was such a Lexa thing to do. Clarke read over the engraving again, her heart giving a little squeeze as she remembered her father’s voice over the phone as he was dying and what it meant that Lexa took the time to make sure Clarke had that much more of her father to take with her wherever she went.

Running a hand through her hair, Clarke choked out, “She’s my best friend.”

***

The idea that Lexa was in love with her had not left Clarke’s head in the three days since the gang’s Christmas party. Despite the holiday, Clarke’s work kept her busy right afterward, allowing her mind to work overtime with all the projects, assignments, and newly revealed information. She had a break when the weekend came up again (thank god for a mid-week Christmas), but her relief was short-lived. A few weeks back, she had agreed to meet a colleague’s brother for dinner and drinks. Clarke had been open to the idea at the time because her colleague, who had set her up, was a soft-spoken and respectful man.

As Clarke continued to sip her cheap white wine in a dingy bar, she realized that her colleague’s brother was most definitely not soft-spoken or respectful. The mustached man had been loudly going on and on about the perks of his apparently shiny office job. It must not have been that great of a job, though, if he could only afford to take her to this shithole.

_You know, _a voice in Clarke’s head spoke up_, Lexa would take you to that beautiful new Italian restaurant on the other side of town._

Clarke startled a bit at the unexpected, but mostly welcome, thought. She had been having those little thoughts ever since Christmas. If Clarke were being honest with herself, she knew that dating Lexa would be an experience like no other. Nobody would ever or could ever compare to the big and kind heart that Lexa had within her. Lexa treated all of her past girlfriends with the utmost respect and care. She was already so attentive and responsive to Clarke as a friend—unlike her blind date who was now gesticulating about how his friend needed “a real car” and not a stupid electric one—so Clarke knew that Lexa would be the best girlfriend she could ever imagine. And physical attraction would not be a problem either. One of the first things Clarke had ever thought about Lexa when they first met at the coffee shop was, Damn, she’s gorgeous. But they had become such great friends so quickly that Clarke put her attraction to the side. If she was being extra honest with herself, part of the reason she gave up so quickly on the idea of dating, or even just sleeping with Lexa, was because she thought Lexa deserved someone better. Not that Clarke thought she was a terrible or unattractive person, but Lexa was on a whole other level, and she deserved someone who existed at that same level, too.

In addition to all those confusing thoughts, Clarke determined her biggest dilemma to be whether the inkling of feelings she could feel surfacing toward her best friend were just a product of the situation and not actual true more-than-just-friends feelings. What if Clarke tried a romantic relationship with Lexa and realized she was just caught up in the moment? What if their relationship worked better as friends? Even worse, what if trying a relationship, and failing at it, caused their friendship to break up altogether?

“What do you even see in this guy?”

Clarke startled at the voice of her best friend. She glanced behind her blind date to see Lexa leaning up against the bar a couple feet away. Shaking her head at her subconscious mind and the conversation it apparently needed with an apparition of Lexa, Clarke took a deep breath and said, “I’m in the middle of a date. Do you mind?”

Lexa scoffed, asking, “You’d really rather go out on a date with him over me?” The Lexa before her took a slow drink of whiskey with a smirk visible from behind the glass tumbler.

“I can’t do this right now, Lexa.” Clarke felt whole heartedly ridiculous for having to tell this fake version of her best friend to leave, even though her mind had brought Lexa here in the first place.

“Okay, I’ll go,” Lexa conceded. “But you have to stop thinking about me.”

Clarke huffed and crossed her arms, trying to resettle and refocus in her chair. Just as she realized her blind date was still going on about electric cars, Lexa appeared, bent over, elbows on knees, in the chair next to Clarke.

“Can’t do it, can you?” Lexa winked. Clarke’s eyes raked over Lexa’s cocky posture. She always loved how confident Lexa could be when she spoke about languages and history or the stars and the oceans, but Clarke had never really seen Lexa’s playboy-esque persona. Throughout the few and far between nights at clubs and bars, Clarke had seen Lexa sometimes sweep another woman off her feet. Most of the time, though, Lexa was just a giant nerd, which somehow also attracted other women toward her like moths to flames.

“Alright,” Clarke said. “I can’t stop thinking about you. So what?”

Lexa’s eyes studied Clarke for a long moment before glancing at the blind date. “What do you see in him anyway?”

“I hoped he would be nice,” Clarke sighed. “I was told he was a nice guy.”

Lexa scoffed and wrinkled her nose at the man who suddenly yelled, “I mean, can you imagine this hammerhead in traffic!”

“Clarke,” Lexa started. Clarke looked sideways to see Lexa on her knees next to Clarke’s chair. Lexa’s hands grasped Clarke’s. “Come on. You know you deserve better than someone who is just nice. Give us a chance.” Her eyes were so open and green. Clarke blinked and tried to push away how much she wanted to give in.

“Lexa, it’s too hard.” Clarke took a deep breath, already not looking forward to speaking with the real Lexa about this. “You are my best friend. If we broke up and I lost you…” Her voice cracked at the end.

“Woah, woah, woah.” Lexa leaned up toward Clarke, rubbing her thumbs over the tops of Clarke’s hands. “Who said anything about breaking up?”

“Lexa, I just—”

“You and I both know that we are perfect for each other.” This imagined Lexa was doing a great job at convincing Clarke that her fears were unfounded and absurd. God, Clarke just wanted to fall into those lips. She had always found them attractive and kissable, but this was the first time she really thought about pulling them into her own lips and letting the withheld attraction take over. “So, the only question is, are you willing to take this chance?” Clarke squeezed the hands holding onto her own once she saw Lexa’s face coming closer. The breath suddenly across her own mouth felt real and hot, and she wanted to finally close the distance between her and—

“So, are we thinking about dessert?”

The waitress’ bubbly voice broke into Clarke’s daydream. She looked up at the very real human before her, quickly checking the empty table and chair next to her, before saying, “We’ll take the check actually. Thank you.”

The blind date either didn’t care he was cut off or he was excited about the prospect of leaving the bar early. Clarke shuddered to think it was the latter, though she most definitely knew it was considering his overall smarmy attitude. Thankfully, Clarke met the man at the bar, so she took off without even a polite goodbye at the bar’s front door. She drove away without looking back and without really thinking about where she was headed. Going back to her apartment right away wasn’t an option. Octavia and Raven were fun to live with, and they all got along, of course, as friends. They knew Clarke almost as much as Lexa knew her. But they had spent the last three days not-so-subtly bringing up the awkward Christmas gift incident and how Lexa would be a great girlfriend and what Clarke should do or say once Lexa landed. (The options were limited to either confess your undying love and then kiss her until they were both naked and sweaty, or kiss her until they were both naked and sweaty while confessing your love repeatedly. The options were both Raven’s ideas, of course.)

During all her internal debating, Clarke found herself at her dad’s cemetery. The place was especially creepy at night, but Clarke paid no attention as her occupied mind automatically directed her body to her father’s grave. She sat down with her legs crossed, as usual, next to the headstone, so she could lean her shoulder and head against it. If she closed her eyes tight enough and held her breath, she almost felt as if she were leaning into her dad’s warm body while his arm settled over her shoulder and his lips occasionally brushed her forehead.

“Hey, dad,” she whispered, her breath clouding in front of her. “I hope you weren’t completely watching over me the last hour and a half. Can you believe that guy? He was the worst.”

Clarke took a moment to gather herself. She always got emotional at her father’s grave. With everything else going on in her head, she was surprised she hadn’t started sobbing yet. Nonetheless, her inner thoughts came out brittle but heavy as she spoke on the verge of tears.

“Lexa’s in love with me. Has been for years, apparently. I’ve been kicking myself for not noticing because it must’ve been hard for her to keep that inside. I hate the thought that she has probably been in pain these last few years.” Clarke sniffled, cursing the cold for her runny nose. “What am I supposed to do, Dad? I love Lexa, so much, but am I in love with her? We’re such great friends, and I know she would be a wonderful girlfriend. God, I can only imagine how great that would be. She’s the most amazing person I know. Am I even good enough for her? I know, I know. I can almost see you shaking your head.”

Clarke wiped her nose again, feeling tears gather at her lashes. “I think that’s the problem, Dad. We could be amazing together. I really think that. But I’m so scared. Because you know who else was so amazing together? You and mom. You and mom were great. Not perfect, I know, but pretty damn close. What if I get that with Lexa, and then I lose it, too? What do I do then? I can’t live without her, Dad. She’s-she’s my best friend.”

The night air had already seeped under her four layers of clothing. Clarke wrapped her arms around herself, leaning harder into the headstone. She really wanted a subconscious-generated version of her father to show up, like Lexa so rudely did at the bar, but her mind must not have agreed.  
Maybe Lexa had already given you the answers you needed.

Clarke closed her eyes and imagined the new Italian restaurant that she knew Lexa would have used for a date night. First, Lexa would hold open the doors and pull out the chair for Clarke, not because she thought Clarke needed it or because of some stupid heteronormative notion, but because Lexa was just naturally sweet and attentive. Clarke would roll her eyes, pretending to hate that Lexa would do those things, but she would secretly swoon at the chivalry. Lexa would wink because she knew about Clarke’s secret swooning, too. They would talk all night, enjoying the delicious food and engaging in conversation that interested both of them. They would leave hand-in-hand after play-fighting over who would pay the bill—it would be Lexa because of her damn chivalry, though she’d promise to let Clarke pay the next time like always—and they would lean into each other the whole walk home. Clarke pictured them arriving at an apartment that was theirs, a weird combination of Clarke’s messy art and Lexa’s near-OCD cleanliness that felt like home. After they’d take off their shoes, Lexa would pull Clarke close and dorkily slow-dance around the apartment without music. They would arrive at their bedroom door where Lexa would dip Clarke and then passionately kiss her.

Just as they started pulling at each other, crossing the room’s threshold and slamming the door, Clarke sat up from her father’s headstone. She cringed as she realized her mind had gone to some sexy places right next to where they had buried her father.

“Sorry, Dad,” Clarke mumbled. She stood and brushed the dirt from her pants. The icy temperature had her teeth chattering, so she knew she had to go. Placing a kiss on her fingertips, she pressed them to her father’s engraved name, saying, “I think I want to try, Dad. I want everything I just thought about, all the risks and possible consequences be damned. You and mom got almost thirty years. Maybe I could have that, too. With Lexa.”

Clarke left her father’s grave feeling lighter than ever. All her thoughts were terrifying, and she couldn’t stop thinking about the _what if_ questions. She just needed to talk with Lexa, though. They could figure something out, and maybe they could have something as magical as what Clarke imagined.

***

Every time a group of passengers filtered out from the depths of the airport, Clarke bounced up on her toes to look for her best friend’s brown mane of curls and braids. In her excitement (and anxiety), Clarke had already pricked two fingers on the bouquet of flowers she had bought for Lexa. Now that Clarke was actually about to see Lexa again after Raven had revealed this not-so-hidden secret, she felt eager to share her thoughts with Lexa. Visiting her dad’s grave had been so therapeutic, and Raven and Octavia were overjoyed at Clarke’s decision to start a relationship with Lexa. The girls had gossiped and giggled late into the night, which also served to help Clarke wash away the icky feelings she got from her disappointing blind date.

Clarke checked the arrivals and departures board next to her and saw that Lexa’s plane had landed about two minutes ago. Her heartrate picked up. This was it. Clarke didn’t want to bare her entire heart and soul in the middle of the airport, so she planned on quickly taking Lexa to her parked car, where she would try to gently explain what had happened on Christmas. Hopefully Lexa wouldn’t be too mad at Raven, although that anger would be totally warranted. Clarke planned on asking Lexa out on a date then to distract her from any anger she may be feeling.

The moment Lexa’s head became visible Clarke stopped breathing and moving altogether.

Lexa was laughing with a dark-haired woman who Clarke didn’t recognize. When Clarke just saw their heads, she began hoping that they had met on the flight or even during Lexa’s time in South Africa, and they had become friends. At that moment, though, the crowd of people dispersed some, and Clarke could see Lexa and this beautiful stranger comfortably holding hands.

“Fuck,” Clarke whispered to herself. She quickly blinked back tears and pasted a smile across her lips.

_Of course. As soon as you figure your shit out, it’s too late, Griffin._

Fortunately, Clarke’s best-friend mode kicked in, and she pretended that nothing had changed in her mind over the week since she had last seen or spoken with Lexa, that she was happy to see her best friend so happy with someone else, that she was excited to meet this woman who had caused that smile on Lexa’s face. Clarke squared her shoulders and readied herself for the next two hours she would spend with Lexa and this new woman on their way to Clarke’s apartment, where the whole gang was probably waiting to hear about their new relationship development.

“Clarke?” Lexa shouted from down the packed hallway. She seemed happily surprised to see Clarke waiting. “I thought you were going to be working. You didn’t have to come and pick us up.”

_I’m supposed to be at work. I skipped just for you._

“I thought it would be a nice surprise.” Clarke was impressed at her steady and cheerful voice. “You’ve had a long trip back, and taxis are too expensive.”

Lexa laughed, “Yeah, that is so true. Thank you, Clarke.” Lexa let go of the woman’s hand and scooped Clarke up in a hug. As much as Clarke wanted to hide a few tears and her grimace into Lexa’s shoulder, she knew that this strange woman could see every expression. So, she pushed all her emotions down deep and met eyes with the stranger over Lexa’s shoulder.

Quicker than she wanted, Clarke let go of Lexa, nearly shoving her away. “Who’s this, Lexa?”

“Oh, shit, sorry,” Lexa giggled and blushed. _Fuck, this is literally going to kill me_, Clarke thought. “This is Costia. We used to go to high school together, and she happened to be in the same village I was. Isn’t that funny?”

“Wow, that is a coincidence.” Clarke let out what sounded like a strangled laugh. She cleared her throat to pull herself together even more, reaching a hand out toward this Costia. “Nice to meet you. I’m Clarke.”

Costia had a gentle but firm grip on Clarke’s hand. “Yes, Lexa has mentioned you quite a bit as well as a lot of other close friends. I was surprised because when I knew Lexa, she was quite the loner.” Costia let go of Clarke’s hand to giggle with Lexa and reattach their hands.

“Shut up, Cos,” Lexa said with a lot more blushing and a nudge of her shoulder.

_I’m sure the Lexa you knew is much different today. People can change over time, bitch_.

Clarke shuddered the bad thought away quickly. This wasn’t the place to get petty. She would need to wait until she was around Raven and Octavia in a few hours.

“Okay,” Clarke started with a clap. “I see you two already have your luggage, so why don’t we get out of this sweaty cesspool of a building, yeah? Costia, do you need a ride to your place or a hotel somewhere?” Clarke asked, crossing all her fingers in hope that Costia would leave them.

“Actually, she’s going to come with us, Clarke. She’s staying with me,” Lexa said. She smirked toward the grinning Costia. “She just moved to Baltimore a few months ago, but she’ll stay here for a few more days before going back.”

“And don’t think you’ll get rid of me even then,” Costia winked. “This is my second chance with you. I let the first one slip by in high school like an idiot.”

“Okay, sure, like you even noticed me back then, Miss Cheerleader Captain.”

“How could I not notice you when you dressed like a badass? And when you were the valedictorian for our class? Someone like that is hard to miss, Lex.”

Clarke listened to their playful bickering all the way back to her car, feeling her stomach become heavier and heavier with each step. She quickly texted Raven and Octavia an update on the situation. The gang had planned on convening in Clarke, Raven, and Octavia’s apartment when Lexa came home, but she didn’t want them saying anything about Clarke’s new feelings. Despite the questions that came pouring in from Raven and Octavia, Clarke told them she would explain in person and added nothing more. It was obvious, even through text messages, that Clarke was not okay. Her two other best friends surprisingly stopped texting right away, simply telling her “good luck” and “I’ll take her out quickly and quietly, don’t worry, Griffin.” Clarke was able to let out a small smile at Raven’s words.

During the long car ride home, that was made even longer by a couple car accidents along the way, Clarke came to realize that Costia was sweet and genuine. Costia shared a bit more about how she knew Lexa from high school and had always harbored a secret crush on her, but their circles never crossed paths. When they graduated, Costia had always wished she had said or done something to get to know Lexa, whether as a friend or girlfriend. Costia had taken her undergraduate and graduate classes at a university in Washington before interning with a research company that had relocated her to Baltimore a few months ago.

_Great, she’s actually really nice. How am I supposed to hate her now?_

Lexa appeared to be just as enamored with Costia as Costia was with her. They had chosen to sit in the back seat together, with their hands always entwined, leaving Clarke to feel like an actual chauffeur in the front alone. Their constant goo-goo eyes would normally be sickening for Clarke anyway, but she couldn’t find the strength to tease Lexa like she normally would have. Instead, she listened and nodded along like a polite friend. However, she couldn’t find it in herself to engage any further than necessary. Watching them together felt like Clarke had a constant vice clamped over her heart. What hurt the most was that Lexa didn’t even seem to notice how uncomfortable and upset Clarke was. Lexa’s normal level of attentiveness was apparently overshadowed by her infatuation with this Costia girl.

_She’s goddamn beautiful, too. Like, her dark, creamy skin and that hair. Fuck, if you weren’t so upset with her, you’d notice how hot she was._

“I assume we’re meeting the gang at your place first then?” Lexa asked as they pulled into Clarke’s usual parking garage.

“Yeah, I think everyone is there. I hope you’re ready for all of us, Costia,” Clarke tried to joke.

“I’ve heard they’re kind of a lot, but if they’re like you, Clarke, I’m sure I’ll be fine.” Costia’s compliment was genuine, Clarke could tell. That’s just how the woman was, but Clarke wanted to roll her eyes anyway. Instead of responding, she texted Raven and Octavia to say that they had arrived, adding a “brace yourself” to the text just to be a bit petty. Raven and Octavia both found it funny.

“We’ll make this quick, though, because I need to shower the airport off me,” Lexa said with a grimace.

Costia laughed. “Oh, yeah, I forgot you had to sit by that gross man on the long flight.” She nudged Clarke on the arm as they headed toward the elevator. “He was practically squeezed into the seat, first of all. Then, he wouldn’t stop sweating or breathing through his mouth. Like, he was panting for the whole flight.”

Lexa shuddered. “It was disgusting. Stop reminding me.” Costia moved from Clarke’s side to cuddle up against Lexa, which made Lexa relax and smile again. Clarke calmly pressed the up button for the elevator with one hand while pressing her nails into her palm with the other. She could feel herself wanting to scream and hyperventilate, but she roughly swallowed the urge down.

As they entered the elevator and rode up, Clarke took the time to count from one to ten slowly, over and over, until she felt her emotions level out. Again, Clarke couldn’t help but notice that Lexa seemed completely oblivious to Clarke’s mental state. Even with the smallest of things, Lexa would be able to tell that Clarke was not feeling like herself or hadn’t had enough sleep or just wanted to curl up with Netflix and a heating pad because her cramps were a bit too strong. Now, Lexa couldn’t care less.

Clarke knew she was being unreasonable. It wasn’t that Lexa had suddenly stopped caring about her, but this whole Costia situation had really thrown her off balance and made her realize that she was much more excited about talking to Lexa than she previously thought.

When Clarke entered the apartment in front of Lexa and Costia, she sent a hopefully cheery smile in the gang’s direction. “Look who I found hitchhiking near the airport, guys?” she joked, but before sending genuine laughs to Lexa, most of her friends gave Clarke sympathetic smiles first. Everyone stood up from their place around the kitchen table to hug and greet Lexa. They all ignored Costia for a moment, which pettily amused Clarke.

Lincoln, though, was always too kindhearted and asked, “Uh, who’s this, Lexa?”

“Well,” she started, moving to stand behind Costia and drape both arms over her shoulders. Clarke’s throat tightened at how close she had come to be the woman that Lexa would hold like that. “This is Costia. We went to high school together, and she just so happened to be at the same village in South Africa. We sort of…_reconnected_ there, I guess.”

“Is that what you kids call it these days?” Bellamy joked. He was the oldest one in the group, and he loved to act like a clueless grandpa around everyone. Costia and Lexa giggled, but Raven sent an elbow into Bellamy’s gut as soon as the new couple glanced away. He grimaced and subtly gave Clarke an apologetic glance. Clarke just shook her head with a shrug.

The gang talked with Lexa and Costia for another ten minutes while Clarke sulked into a glass of iced water near the sink. When Lexa and Costia claimed to need their rest and showers, everyone eagerly let them go. Lexa’s apartment was only down the block in another high-rise building. Nobody offered to help them with luggage or accompany them on the walk, which was common for them anyway, but Clarke reveled in the petty satisfaction she felt at them having to lug two full-size suitcases and two carry-on bags all the way down the street and up the five flights of stairs to Lexa’s place.

As soon as the apartment door shut, Clarke let her shoulders drop in exhaustion. She set her glass down on the counter to rub at her stinging eyes. She could feel six pairs of eyes looking at her, and as much as she wanted to keep it together while they were here, she couldn’t help the small sob and sniffle that escaped her. Clarke felt two bodies come near her. Figuring it was Raven and Octavia, Clarke leaned into the body closest to her. Octavia’s arms hugged her from the front while Raven enveloped her from the back. Clarke put one arm around Octavia’s back and used the other to grip onto Raven’s arms on her stomach.

The trio of girls stood in the kitchen for the longest time as Clarke silently wept and cursed herself for being too late.

***

Despite living 30 miles away in another city with her own job and responsibilities, Costia had become an almost permanent presence with the gang over the next three months. Also, unfortunately for Clarke, everyone agreed that Costia was a wonderful person, but they all held out just a bit of resentment for her because of Clarke’s newly-discovered, not-platonic feelings for her best friend. Clarke and Octavia had a small argument over Costia’s immersion into the gang when Octavia had taken Costia out to Arkadia, the mall where Clarke, Raven, and Octavia had always visited together. Clarke didn’t speak to Octavia until Octavia trapped her in their kitchen a few days afterward. It should have been a good thing that one of Lexa’s closest friends was getting along with her new girlfriend, and Clarke knew she was being overemotional and dramatic about the whole ordeal. But when she choked out to Octavia, “She’s already stolen Lexa. I don’t want her to steal you, too,” Octavia understood. Octavia had apologized, but Clarke told her to keep pretending like everything was okay. Lexa didn’t need to know about the emotions that Clarke was now constantly dealing with. They should all treat Costia with the respect that she deserved because, overall, she was a great person and a great girlfriend.

In an attempt to move on, Clarke agreed on another blind date—this time heckling Octavia about this woman she trained at her gym, making sure to stalk the woman on social media, so she wasn’t caught in another awful bar with some douche bag who wouldn’t stop talking about other men and their electric cars. The woman, Niylah, was surprisingly soft-spoken and incredibly beautiful. They were currently at a four-star French restaurant, waiting on a delicious dinner and engaging in conversation.

_This is the kind of place Lexa would take you to._

Clarke held in her sigh at the thought. It wasn’t the first time tonight that she had compared Niylah to the fantasy version of Lexa. So far, Niylah was checking all of Clarke’s boxes that she usually looked for in a date: she was attentive, she made Clarke laugh and smile, she was chivalrous but not overbearing or demeaning about it. If she had met Niylah at any other time, Clarke would have ended the date by asking Niylah for some “coffee” at her apartment, and she would cook a mean breakfast the following morning before asking Niylah for another date.

_You know, Lexa would make you breakfast after a night of burning calories, too._

As it were, though, Clarke knew she wouldn’t be able to keep her head in the right place to enjoy a night with Niylah.

“Am I boring you, Clarke?” Niylah suddenly asked. She had been describing what she did as a curator for the Smithsonian.

“No, no, no,” Clarke was quick to say. “I think what you do is fascinating. Especially as an artist myself. I just…umm…” Clarke sighed, trailing her fingers over the condensation on her water glass. For some reason, she felt like she could be completely honest with Niylah, and the woman wouldn’t be too hurt about how the mood of the date would suddenly turn around. “Can I be honest with you about something?”

Niylah nodded with a smirk, surprising Clarke by saying, “You’re already with someone, aren’t you?”

“No, no. But—well…I’ve recently realized that I have feelings for someone really close to me. But now they are dating another person. I was too late in telling them. I’m trying to move on—that’s why Octavia set this up—but I’m sorry. I just—” Clark took another deep breath. “I think you’re great. Any other time, I would have been so interested. Trust me. But I’m so hung up on her, it’s crazy.”

“It’s okay, Clarke,” Niylah said, grabbing Clarke’s hand with one of her own. “I can’t say I’m not disappointed, of course. You’re absolutely gorgeous.”

Clarke felt herself blush under Niylah’s gentle touch and intense gaze. “Thanks, Niylah.”

They sat in silence as their waiter showed up with their food. For a few moments, Clarke was distracted by the food and the romantic atmosphere of the dimly-lit restaurant.

“So,” Niylah started between bites of food. “Tell me about her.” When Clarke hesitated, Niylah continued, “I want to help in some way, Clarke. If I can’t do that by getting under you,” Niylah winked and Clarke blushed, “then I want to listen. Maybe talking will help.”

Clarke cursed herself, again, for not finding any attraction for this incredible woman. “You sure?” she asked. After Niylah nodded, Clarke dove into the long story of her and Lexa: how they met during their college years, how she overlooked her attraction in order to become Lexa’s friend, how they had been close ever since, how Raven had blown Lexa’s secret, and how Clarke had just come to realize her romantic feelings for Lexa when everything went to hell.

“I just couldn’t believe it, really. The moment I pull my shit together and uncover this huge crush that had apparently been growing all these years, Lexa comes back with someone,” Clarke scoffed and finished off her water. “And someone who she has history with. Like, what are the fucking odds, right?”

“I’m guessing by your tone that this other woman isn’t as bitchy as you had hoped?”

Clarke groaned. “No, she’s actually so sweet and perfect. Her and Lexa are adorable together.” Clarke quickly pulled out her phone to pull up Lexa’s Instagram account. The most recent photo was of the two women outside an animal shelter. Upon showing the picture to Niylah, Clarke said, “See? Look how happy and cute they are. Like, they’re getting a cat together. Octavia just told me about it today. I think the cat is actually for Costia, but they’re picking it out together, so it’s basically going to be both of theirs, right? It’s just so unfair. I was too late to get Lexa, and now I can’t even complain about her girlfriend because she’s so fucking perfect, and I’m guessing their stupid cat will be perfect, too. God.”

“I could beat her up. You said she lives in Baltimore, right? I know some people,” Niylah said with a wink.

Clarke just laughed and shook her head. “I wish, but don’t.”

“Here’s what I propose then.” Niylah lifted her nearly-empty water glass toward Clarke. “There is a bar next door that my cousin owns. We can order discounted, hopefully some free, drinks until last call, so we can get knock-out drunk until you can’t even remember what this perfect bitch and her future cat looks like. Are you in?”

Clarke studied Niylah’s raised eyebrows and her smirking lips. It didn’t take her long to decide on an answer.

“Fuck yeah, I’m in.”

Niylah paid their tab despite Clarke’s protests before dragging her by the hand to the bar next door. Luckily, Niylah’s cousin was working behind the bar that night because an employee had called in sick earlier. He gave them mostly free drinks for the rest of the night. The two women danced and talked and laughed for hours. Clarke couldn’t remember the last time she had had so much fun on a date. Maybe she felt so free because she knew that Niylah had dropped any and all expectations she may have had for the end of the night. It didn’t stop Niylah from becoming a bit handsy while they danced, but Clarke reveled in the fact that somebody wanted her. It wasn’t the somebody that she wanted, but Niylah’s wandering hands and tight body felt good against hers nonetheless.

During the many hours they danced and drank, Clarke truly didn’t think about Lexa or her girlfriend. The heavy bass, sweaty bodies, and good company kept her mind occupied until Niylah’s cousin brought them up to the bar for one more shot at last call. He told them to hang around while he cleaned up, so he could drive them both to their apartments. While they giggled and swayed on bar stools, Niylah suddenly slapped her hand on the sticky bar top.

“Clarke! I know what you need to get over Lexa.”

Clarke’s drunken mind was eager to hear what Niylah had come up with. “Yes, yes, yes. What?”

“You need closure!” Niylah yelled. Clarke nodded, blinking heavily. “You need to be able to say to her, ‘Lexa, I am over you.’ Then, you will be over her.” Niylah threw her hands in the air in victory.

“You’re right. You’re so right. So smart,” Clarke mumbled as she pulled her phone from her back pocket. “I’m gonna do it right now. I’m gonna tell her I’m totally over her and her stupid cat.”

After fumbling for a few minutes, Clarke finally found Lexa’s contact and the button to make a phone call. She sat up taller, still swaying, on her stool as the line rang in her ear. It rang for a few long moments until Lexa began talking over the voicemail.

“It’s her voicemail. I’m gonna leave a message,” Clarke whispered loudly to Niylah.

“That’ll work just as well. Remember,” Niylah said with a finger pointed at Clarke, “this is for closure.”

Clarke nodded just as the beep sounded through the phone. “Lexa! Hi, it’s Clarke! I’m just calling to say that…uh…” Clarke paused and looked over at Niylah, who pointed with her finger and slapped the bar top again. “Right, I’m calling to say that everything is fine. I’m just really happy for you and for Costia and for your cat. So, you know, I’m here with Niylah, and I’m happy for you, so, obviously, I am over you. I,” Clarke even pointed at herself, though Lexa wouldn’t be able to see her right now, “am over…you. And that, Lexa, is called closure.”

Taking her phone from her ear and pressing the “End Call” button with an exaggerated motion, Clarke busted out laughing with Niylah. Niylah’s cousin found them almost ten minutes later, still giggling into their hands and moving around so much on their stools that they were constantly almost falling, which kept them giggling even more. He corralled them into his car behind the bar. The two women fell into the backseat, now feeling tired from the all the alcohol consumed. Clarke sat in the middle next to Niylah, so she could put her head on Niylah’s shoulder. Niylah put her arm around Clarke to cuddle her closer.

“Do you feel better, Clarke?” Niylah whispered a few minutes later.

She sighed. “I don’t know. Not really.”

“So, you don’t want me to come up for another drink?” Clarke laughed loudly, burying her face into Niylah’s jacket.

“I wish,” Clarke said. “Because you smell good, but I’m so drunk. I wouldn’t be able to even take your bra off.”

“Oh, I’m not wearing a bra right now. It’ll be easy,” Niylah winked. Clarke could see Niylah’s cousin shaking his head and cringing through the rearview mirror. Leaning back to look at Niylah better, Clarke used her hand to brush some hair behind Niylah’s ear. She suddenly felt much more sober.

“I really want to, but…” Clarke sighed. “I don’t think it would end well, you know? And I don’t want to hurt you, Niylah.”

The car slowed to a stop outside of Clarke’s apartment building at that moment. Niylah let out her own sigh, turning to brush her nose against Clarke’s hand.

“Well, I appreciate your honesty.” She smiled before getting out of the car, helping Clarke, and then stumbling to the front door together. “If you change your mind, though,” Niylah said, “you have my number now.”

They giggled a bit, still greatly affected by the alcohol. “Oh, I will. Trust me. Goodnight, Niylah.”

Niylah fell into Clarke to kiss her on the cheek. “Night, Clarke.”

Clarke watched her beautiful date and her date’s cousin drive off before entering her building, dreading the hangover she would feel the next morning.

***

With her brain pounding in her skull and her stomach threatening to turn itself inside out, Clarke skulked into the kitchen the morning after her night out with Niylah. Most of the night was a blur in her head. Everything after their third shot at Niylah’s cousin’s bar was a blank spot in her mind. Thankfully, Raven and Octavia were out of the apartment, so they wouldn’t be harassing her anytime soon, and she wouldn’t have to try and socialize when she felt like dying underneath her covers.

The sound of the front door opening almost made Clarke explode. Before she could even see who was entering the apartment, much less be wary that it could’ve been a complete stranger, Clarke growled, “For the love of God, do _not_ slam that door.” She finally had a glass of water in her hand, and she downed the four painkillers she had brought from her bedroom.

“Woah, what happened to you?” Lexa’s voice was startled but quiet. Thank, God.

“I had a date,” Clarke said, sitting at the kitchen table.

“With Jose Cuervo?” Lexa joked.

“No, with a woman.” Clarke would have rolled her eyes, but she was afraid doing so would dislodge her brain from her skull entirely.

“I take it the date went well?” Lexa asked.

“I know there was a restaurant, then a bar, then lots and lots of shots. And dancing.” Some memory in Clarke’s mind flickered when she finally braved looking up toward Lexa and the kitchen light that seemed to burn brighter than it ever had before. She wanted to remember something, something that had happened last night, something that had to do with Lexa. As far as Clarke could remember, she had told Niylah all about the storm of emotions Clarke felt for her best friend (which was wildly embarrassing to recall).

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

In all her concentrating, Clarke had kept staring at Lexa. “I don’t…I don’t know. I think- I think I had a dream about you last night.”

“Okay,” Lexa nodded. “Well, Octavia said she had cat toys for me from when you guys took in that stray a while back. I’m just gonna grab them.”

Lexa headed toward Octavia’s bedroom before noticing a box sitting on their living room couch. Clarke stood from the kitchen table, planning that slow, painful death underneath her covers when she couldn’t help but ask, “Did we talk on the phone last night? Or did you call me?”

Lexa shook her head as her eyes lit up in recognition. “No. Actually, I left my phone here on accident yesterday. Hopefully—” she paused to dig her hand through the box of cat toys. “Yes, it’s here with the toys. Octavia found my phone.” She held it up to show Clarke, who nodded, still feeling something unsettling and nagging in her head.

“Okay, sorry,” she said. “Hangover brain, I guess.” Clarke barely gave Lexa another glance as she walked back toward her room.

“It’s cool,” Clarke heard Lexa mumble. Suddenly, Lexa yelled out, “Oh, well, Clarke, I have a message from you. Did you call me?”

Clarke froze with her body in her bedroom doorway. Memories from last night—laughing with Niylah, the proposal of finding closure, Clarke’s voicemail with Lexa, how Clarke and Niylah bid each other goodnight—came filtering through Clarke’s pounding and hazy mind. She slowly turned toward Lexa, who stood with the box of cat toys on her hip and her phone pressed to her ear in the kitchen. She had already opened the voicemail to listen.

Lexa quirked an eyebrow. “Who’s Niylah?”

“Oh my god, fuck,” Clarke said, jogging over to Lexa. “Lexa, hang up your phone. Please, hang it up, right now.” Lexa hadn’t moved from her spot, but Clarke noticed the exact moment Lexa tensed and froze. Clarke had reached the kitchen table in front of Lexa, and she grabbed the phone from Lexa’s hand, but she froze, too, knowing the damage had already been done.

Lexa was always someone to be counted on in emotional or high-stress situations because she could remain calm like nobody else. But the Lexa who stood in front of Clarke right now seemed lost and on the verge of either screaming or running. They stood in silence as Clarke tried to come up with something to say. She thought about playing it all off as a joke, that she had been so piss-drunk last night that she couldn’t be responsible for what she said and did. But Lexa spoke first.

“You’re…you’re over me?”

“Oh my god,” Clarke whispered. She ran her hand through her hair and sat back down at the kitchen table. “Oh god, oh god, oh god,” she repeated, putting her head in her hands.

“You’re over me,” Lexa said. “When…”

Clarke barely glanced up to see Lexa staring intently at her.

“When were you…under me?” Lexa asked. In any other time or place, Clarke would have cackled at Lexa’s question.

She fidgeted in her seat, wanting to scream and run herself. “I…I don’t…umm…”

“Clarke,” Lexa finally said. “Do you…I mean, have you had…”

Still fidgeting and stuttering, Clarke couldn’t come up with anything. Her mind had somehow stopped pounding, and instead, it had gone completely blank. In all the ways she had imagined telling Lexa about her feelings, even while she had been dating Costia, Clarke never imagined this would happen because of a confession she had made while she was out drunk with a blind date.

“Clarke!” Lexa’s commander-voice finally broke through Clarke’s panic. “What?” Lexa still hadn’t moved from her spot, but she was noticeably breathing heavier.

“Okay, okay,” Clarke said. She sat up taller in her chair—the memory of doing the same thing while calling Lexa the night before flashed through her mind—and let out a deep breath. Without making eye contact, Clarke admitted, “Lately, I umm… I’ve sort of, kind of…had some…romantic feelings for you.”

_Oh, God. It’s out there. You said it. Now she knows. Fuck._

“You’ve…” Lexa tried, but she stopped to audibly swallow. “You’ve had feelings for me.” Again, her commander-voice had taken over. Clarke had learned long ago that, when Lexa was in uncomfortable situations or when she felt too out of control, she put on a stoic face and spoke very brusquely. Clarke’s hangover brain didn’t react well to Lexa’s accusatory tone, though.

“Yeah, so, you had feelings for me first.” She almost clapped her hands over her own mouth.

_Great, you idiot. Now she knows about your feelings, and she knows that you know about her feelings._

“Woah,” Lexa said. While her posture became taller and fiercer, her face began to show much more emotion. “I didn’t—I didn’t know you knew about that.”

“Raven told me.”

“Raven,” Lexa repeated. “When?”

“While you were in South Africa.”

“Africa.”

“With Costia.”

“Costia.” The name of her girlfriend seemed to snap Lexa out of the trance she had fallen into. Lexa’s eyes went to the door behind her as if she expected Costia to be standing right there. “Costia. Right. Okay.”

The two women stood in silence as they both processed what had just happened. Clarke opened and closed her mouth, trying to, again, say something that would fix the whole situation. When nothing came to her mind, she studied Lexa. Lexa was as stoic and statue-like as always, but Clarke knew to look into her eyes to understand what Lexa was feeling. Maybe it was just the lighting or where Clarke was standing, but she swore that Lexa’s eyes were watery.

“And,” Lexa started again. “And now you’re over me?”

Clarke knew it was a bad idea. She should say yes; she should let Lexa go, and they could go back to their friendship, although this would surely have consequences; she should pretend that she was over Lexa, and then she could actually try to move on. Her stupid mouth must have been in cohorts with her heart, though, because they didn’t listen to her head.

“Are you over me?” Clarke whispered. Lexa locked her eyes onto Clarke’s. They both seemed to be holding their breath until the buzzer sounded.

Lexa didn’t look away from Clarke’s eyes, but she said, “That’s Costia. She was supposed to meet me here after I got the cat toys. We’re going back to the shelter.”

Clarke watched, stomach sinking again, as Lexa shifted the cat toy box to her other arm and walked toward the buzzer.

“Cos?” Lexa asked into the speaker.

A terrible static came through with Costia’s voice. “Hey, babe. Did you get the toys? I’ve got a cab waiting for us.”

“Yeah, I got them,” Lexa responded. “I’m on my way down.” Despite her words, Lexa stood still in front of the buzzer for a few more seconds.

“Lexa, can we talk about this—” Clarke started.

“No, I can’t,” Lexa said, taking a deep breath. “I can’t do this right now.” Lexa finally moved, opening the door, but she stopped halfway out. She looked over her shoulder at Clarke, who stood with her arms wrapped around herself. They stared at each other until Lexa left and shut the door.

***

Clarke spent the rest of her morning and afternoon buried underneath her covers, listening to a slew of sad and sappy songs on shuffle. Raven and Octavia found her when they returned to the apartment before dinner. They had taken the day to shop for their upcoming anniversaries with their significant others. Clarke frowned at not being included in the shopping, mostly for lingerie if their purchases were anything to go by, but Raven and Octavia thought that Niylah had stayed over the night before, and they admitted that Clarke’s heartbroken attitude wouldn’t have had fun while the two women constantly gushed about their partners. Even though Clarke didn’t want to admit it, she knew they were right. She would have pouted or sulked the entire time, thinking about the _what ifs_ with Lexa.

When Raven and Octavia had asked about her date with Niylah, Clarke told them everything, including what had gone down with Lexa that morning. Up until that point, Clarke had been depressed and shocked, but she hadn’t really cried about it. The whole situation hadn’t soaked in yet. Relaying everything to her friends, though, brought the waterworks. Raven and Octavia had cuddled Clarke between them for nearly an hour before Clarke called it quits on her pity party. Until she decided to speak with Lexa again, or Lexa decided to speak with her, there wasn’t a whole lot she could do. And it wouldn’t help to keep imagining the different ways their conversation could have gone. Clarke remembered that was called ruminating, and according to the therapist she saw for a year after her dad’s death, the only good it did was get her more anxious and more worked up.

To keep her mind busy, Clarke decided to spend the evening in her art studio. Clarke had gotten so lucky with her job. She worked for a graphic design company that owned an art gallery on the ground floor of their office building. The second floor of the building was dedicated to local artists, whose works were showcased in the gallery. The rest of the eight-story building was office space for the graphic designers, marketers, and office workers. As one of the designers and artists, Clarke had a key to the entire building, which she used often on nights she couldn’t sleep because an idea wouldn’t leave her head.

This night, she tried sketching in her studio for a few hours, but nothing was turning out how she wanted. She contemplated working on a few logos she had due soon, but she assumed that they would not work with her tonight either. Instead, she found herself on the ground level, in the art gallery, cleaning and tidying up the space. Whoever had closed last did not do a great job of sweeping or dusting. The repetitive movements and the open, empty space did wonders to help Clarke ease her mind and her anxiety.

Until Lexa threw open the gallery’s front door and stormed in.

Clarke jumped before freezing in the middle of the open gallery with a broom in her hand. Again, Lexa looked as if she wanted to run away or start screaming. Clarke could tell she was losing her composure very quickly. She could try to invoke her commander-like energy all she wanted, but something told Clarke that it wouldn’t last very long in this conversation.

“Um, hi,” Clarke eventually said.

Lexa took a few deep breaths, her eyes jumping up and down over Clarke’s figure. Finally, she blurted, “I didn’t get a cat.”

“Oh.”

“I mean,” Lexa waved her hand around as if she couldn’t find the words she wanted. “We—_We_ didn’t get a cat.”

“Oh, that’s,” Clarke cleared her throat a bit, “that’s interesting.”

“No, no, it’s not interesting, okay?” Lexa’s voice was commanding but wavering. “It’s very, very not interesting. It’s actually one-hundred percent completely the opposite of interesting.”

“Alright,” Clarke said while setting her broom down, bracing herself for whatever was about to happen. “I got it, Lexa.”

“You had no right. You had no right to tell me you ever had feelings for me,” Lexa blurted with a lot more volume than before.

“Excuse me?” Clarke said. Of all things, Clarke had not expected this. Lexa’s chin lifted in defiance, but Clarke thought her unsteady voice and wavering eyes said much more.

“I was doing great with Costia before I found out about you today.”

“Hey, I was doing great before I found out about you, too,” Clarke argued. Throwing her hands around with her words, Clarke added, “Do you think it’s easy for me to see you with Costia?”

“Well, then you should have said something before, Clarke,” Lexa said. Her breathing had clearly picked up, and she started pacing in front of Clarke.

“I didn’t know then, okay? I didn’t understand what I felt. I only realized after you left.” Clarke furrowed her brow as she realized something about Lexa’s argument. “And how come you never said anything to me, huh? About how you felt.”

“There—” Lexa stopped and put her hands on her hips. Her stoic mask fell over for just a second. “It was just…never a good time,” she finished lamely.

“'Never a good time’?” Clarke laughed. “Right, because we’ve only hung out every night for the last five years.”

“It’s not—It hasn’t been every night.” Lexa inhaled deeply before continuing, “Do you think I didn’t want to? Of course, I wanted to. And I did try, Clarke, but things kept getting in the way.”

“Oh, really? Like what?” Clarke asked.

Lexa floundered. “Like fraternity guys or ex-fiancés or—or…fraternity guys.”

“Please, leave the Finn disaster out of this,” Clarke sighed before rolling her eyes. “And Bellamy and I only happened once, okay? So, what even is your point?”

“My point is I—I…I don’t need this right now. It’s too late,” Lexa said as her stoic mask came back. “I’m with somebody else, and I’m happy. This ship has sailed.”

“So, what do you mean?” Clarke asked, feeling afraid that Lexa was going to walk out any second, and they would never be able to go back to the way they were. Her heart started pounding harder, and a whooshing sounded in her ears. “You’ve just taken your feelings, or whatever the hell it was that you felt for me, and put them away?”

“Yes,” Lexa nodded. She held Clarke’s gaze and appeared to calm significantly. “I’ve done it since freshman year, so I’ve gotten pretty damn good at it.”

Clarke ignored the hurt she could feel. She focused on the ringing between her ears and the anger inside her gut instead. “You know what? Fine. You do that, alright, Lexa? I don’t need your stupid ship, anyway.”

Lexa said, “Good,” and walked back out the door.

Clarke quickly followed, wanting to have the last word. She cracked the door open to yell, “Good. Now I’ve got closure.”

Slamming the door shut and securing the lock and bolt from the inside, Clarke huffed at her best friend. Well, ex-best friend, she supposed. She stalked over to her broom and heaved it toward the back of the gallery away from any of the paintings, thankfully. The whole conversation welled through her mind, but the only thing her mind could suddenly focus on was the fact that Lexa was going back to Costia; she was choosing Costia over Clarke. All the anger swept from her in an instant, and she felt the full effects of the hurt.

With a sob in the back of her throat, Clarke slid down the nearest wall, pulling her knees up to her chest and curling into a ball. She wanted to cry. She wanted to scream. She wanted to bring Lexa back just to say hurtful things. She wanted Lexa to understand, to actually feel, the pain she felt. She wanted Lexa to come back, so she could convince Lexa that they could be so much better than her and Costia.

Clarke knew she was getting nowhere with just her mind as company. She needed something to drink, or she needed sleep, or she needed her other two best friends, who would sit and rage or cry or scream with her if need be.

Wiping her face of tears and snot, Clarke stood from the floor. She forgot about her sweeping and the broom that lay haphazardly across the room. She just needed to leave. After grabbing her bag from behind the front desk, Clarke turned toward the front doors and jumped at the sight.

Lexa leaned against the bar on the front door with her forehead pressed against the glass. Because of the late hour, Clarke couldn’t see much of Lexa’s profile, but as she cautiously stepped forward, she could just make out the tears on Lexa’s cheeks and the longing in her eyes. When Clarke reached the other side of the door, Lexa pressed her hand against the glass. Clarke let out a wet laugh and sniffled, pressing her own hand against Lexa’s through the glass.

Using her other hand, Clarke unlocked the door. Lexa backed up from the glass when the last lock turned. Clarke shakily opened the door. Her breath still fogged the air despite it being late March, but she knew the tingling in her fingertips had nothing to do with the cold. For a brief moment, Clarke thought about how wrong this was. She held her breath, knowing what was about to happen, and she knew she didn’t want to stop it. No matter how sweet Costia was, no matter how much she did not deserve to be cheated on, Clarke threw her self-control to the side and let the door shut behind her.

The two women stared at each other for barely a second before Lexa stepped close and placed her hands on Clarke’s red cheeks. Clarke didn’t hesitate to lean up on her tiptoes and meet Lexa’s lips halfway. Her arms reached around Lexa’s waist to pull her fully against Clarke while Lexa’s hands stayed on her cheeks. They stood in the frigid night air for long minutes, reveling in the feel of finally kissing each other and not bothering to care about what this would mean for them tomorrow.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think. I have an idea for another chapter (because this ending is so unfulfilling, let's be honest). So, if that's something you want, put it in the comments. Thanks!


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